


everything still turns to gold

by starstrikes



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Boys Kissing, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Out, Worlds 2019, author needs to cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 13:46:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18235712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstrikes/pseuds/starstrikes
Summary: It’s a little awkward, shuffling off to the side to wait as Vincent and Nathan wrap their flag around each other and pose. Usually, by now he’d have Shoma next to him draped under the Japanese flag, giggling at his antics as Yuzuru teases him. Yuzuru wants to see the familiar blush that spreads across Shoma’s cheeks and paints his jawline a splotchy red again, wants to be the cause of it.God, he misses Shoma.





	everything still turns to gold

**Author's Note:**

> uh so i was pretty heartbroken after saturday and felt the need to write yuzusho being happy and in love so HERE take me projecting heavily onto yuzu
> 
> title taken from stairway to heaven by led zeppelin

When he strikes the ending pose for Origin, Yuzuru knows he’s done enough.

Hand in the air, stretched towards the shower of stadium lights that ignite the fire thrumming beneath his skin, the adrenaline that runs through his veins and seeps into his bones. Everything is right.

It’s maybe not enough to win, but enough to podium, at the very least. Yuzuru can’t help his proud smirk and feels pettily vindictive at the roar of the crowd around him.

No matter what the scores are, he knows he’s made his point clear. Whatever they think of him, Yuzuru is not finished just yet.

There’s a faint throbbing in his ankle, pain masked by doses of pills that Yuzuru clings to like a saviour, one that Yuzuru ignores in order to fully submerge himself into the moment. His placement will be decided by the skaters after him, but in the face of the overwhelming implications of what he’s just done, it barely seems important. 

Yuzuru had come into this competition worried, irrational fear tugging at him and whispering in his ears that if he falls here he might not be able to get up again. It’s the first rule of skating that if you’re down on the ice you have no other choice but to pick yourself up and skate on.

But recently it seemed like every time he’s had to climb back up after a fall, feeling the burning sting of coldness underneath his palms as his world becomes upright again becomes harder and harder. The pauses between get longer and his breath comes out shorter and it feels like one of these days Yuzuru will close his eyes and find he doesn’t have the strength to push himself back onto his feet again. 

His heart beats steadily in his chest, the ice is solid beneath him and his blood feels like fire pumping through him. He pushes away the doubts, right now is for him and him only.

The kiss and cry feels a little like home when he settles down into it, a place where there are no expectations yet the stakes are the highest. He needs 186 or so to go into first and he knows he’ll probably get it. There’s a sense of relief now and it’s as if everybody in the arena was waiting for the inevitable. 

Yuzuru had watched the skaters before him, knew what he had to do in order to prove himself, went out onto the ice and laid out everything he had. Breathing out, he calms. It’s all a waiting game now.

Shoma’s face flashes across his mind for a moment, a pinprick of something almost like guilt eating at him. Yuzuru had turned away from the screen after Shoma’s skate after a glimpse of the defeated look on Shoma’s face and felt his heart sink. 

(He wanted to wrap his arms around Shoma’s smaller frame and tell him that everything will be okay, he wanted to hide Shoma away from the harsh cruelty of reality, into a safe alcove where numbers didn’t matter. He wanted to push the growing hair out of Shoma’s eyes and kiss him until the voices in Shoma’s head were silent. But even if Yuzuru’s fondness for Shoma had long since surpassed platonic, he knew he had no right. Shoma deserved better than his pity.) 

Yuzuru’s scores come in and he wills the image of Shoma way. 206.10, it’s his best skate of the season. Even he can’t stop the startled yet pleased jump when 300 shows up on the screen. The arena explodes with a clamour of voices and Yuzuru sinks into the moment. He’s done enough.

~

Second place should feel more bittersweet than it does, Yuzuru finds. If anything, the shattered and resigned sadness that flickers across Shoma’s face when he stands to leave hurts him more. Yuzuru had never felt any affection for the little room they put the skaters currently in the lead, a makeshift prison of their own, but watching Shoma’s back disappear even before the ending notes of Nathan’s program have even sounded makes him want to tear the walls down and scream at the unfairness of the world.

~

It’s a little awkward, shuffling off to the side to wait as Vincent and Nathan wrap their flag around each other and pose. Usually, by now he’d have Shoma next to him draped under the Japanese flag, giggling at his antics as Yuzuru teases him. Yuzuru wants to see the familiar blush that spreads across Shoma’s cheeks and paints his jawline a splotchy red again, wants to be the cause of it. 

_God_ , he misses Shoma. 

He glances towards the spotlight again, eyeing the medal around Nathan’s neck. It’s a shame that he lost, but with two clean skates even he had to admit defeat. Nathan’s a good kid and there will be next time. If there’s anything Yuzuru is sure of, it’s that there will be a next time.

It’s the other American skater who still eludes him, just a little. Yuzuru’s never shared a podium with Vincent before today, it just goes to show how the newer generations were stepping up. Still, it was just a little regretful, knowing that if the situation was just a little different, if the scores were just a little altered, Shoma would probably be in Vincent’s place right now. 

Because Yuzuru had watched both programs, had genuinely, honestly thought Shoma would come out on top. He knows quality, knows the ice like nothing else. It felt sour, seeing the bronze hanging on somebody else’s neck when Yuzuru knew where it belonged. 

Turning around, he shakes off his thoughts as he spots the crowd of banners for him, managing to grin a little as he lifts his hand up to mime searching for something, or someone, in his case. 

“Shoma!” He calls, cupping a hand to his face as if it would make his voice hearable at all. The crowd laughs at his skit, media snapping pictures frantically as Yuzuru fights to not be blinded. 

It’s a stupid, spur of the moment thing thrown out to get him a few laughs and Yuzuru knows that by tomorrow media will have written all about this. He wonders what sort of spin they’ll put on it. Yuzuru Hanyu calls out for rival, he can practically see the headline.

And it’s not like Yuzuru is a child, years of skating have long since washed away his fresh-faced enthusiasm from a time before he can remember, with its medals and competitions and the now familiar creak in his bones that reminds Yuzuru his time is running out. 

But as he faces the audience, mouthing an exclaim of “Shoma!” again, giggling for the sake of the articles already being typed up, he’s not sure if he’s just doing this for the media. There’s this petulant, childish, almost desperate want in him that makes him believe, just for a moment, that if he wanted it hard enough, he could have Shoma’s head thrown back in laughter next to him, the warm flush of their bodies huddled beneath their flag. That maybe if he wished hard enough, Shoma would be here next to him, where Yuzuru knew he should be.

It’s nice winning, even if it’s in second place, but it would be even nicer with Shoma next to him. 

Yuzuru blinks, basks in that dream in the split second his eyes are shut, and when he opens them again his hand reaches to curl around a wrist that’s not there.

~

If you ask Yuzuru when he fell in love with Shoma, he could give you a different answer every time. 

Maybe it was after the Olympics, laughing at Shoma’s indifferent demeanour, poking at him until a slow smile revealed just how satisfied Shoma was. Maybe it was at GPF when Shoma slid an arm into his and Yuzuru had joked about marriage when a tiny selfish part of him wanted to clutch at Shoma’s warmth and never let go. Maybe it was years ago, back when Yuzuru was young and naive and didn’t know anything about himself, the ice still in a great area between friend and foe and Shoma had wished him luck before nationals and Yuzuru had first glimpsed Shoma’s own fire.

Maybe it was during late night video game sessions, watching the light burst into flecks in Shoma’s wide eyes and the lilting smirk that transforms Shoma’s face into happiness. Maybe it was when Shoma cried into Yuzuru’s shoulder, let Yuzuru hold him together after Boston and then kept Yuzuru in one piece when Yuzuru broke down himself. Maybe it was during their late night Skype sessions, inexplicable fondness bursting inside him at Shoma’s tired drawl, his sleep-heavy yawns and the contentment at simply being with Shoma. 

It doesn’t matter to him though, thinking about Shoma. He fell for the titanium mentality, the silent strength Shoma carries himself with on the ice, his humble and modest nature. He fell for the shy grins he managed to coax out of Shoma after years, the bashful way Shoma beamed at him nowadays. He fell for the competitive fire that burned in Shoma, the determination of wanting to be better that Shoma exuded.

 _When_ he fell wasn’t important, it was what Shoma had that enraptured Yuzuru. 

(Sometimes, out of the corner of his eye, he thinks Shoma looks at him the same way too, with wonder and awe in his gaze, like Yuzuru is the only thing Shoma sees. Moments like those spark wispy _hope_ in Yuzuru’s chest, deludes him into believing that maybe Yuzuru stands a chance.)

Shoma is a champion, a warrior. Yuzuru watches Shoma skate and sees somebody who is just like him, somebody who understands him. They are born of ice, crafted out of tears and sweat, as fragile and powerful as the silence that buzzes in their ears after each program. 

Yuzuru can skate knowing Shoma will catch him if he falls. Being with Shoma is a pocket of untouchable joy that lightens up Yuzuru’s world. There’s no telling when Yuzuru fell in love with Shoma because Shoma is all he’s known even before he realised his feelings. 

Shoma is beautiful, Yuzuru knows, both inside and out in every way possible. Yuzuru daydreams about curling up with him after a long day of skating, trading lazy kisses, feel the soft curve of Shoma’s cheekbones as he loses himself. He makes Yuzuru feel safe even if nothing else can. 

And even if Yuzuru has been reading everything wrong, even if Shoma doesn’t feel the same, Yuzuru regrets nothing because loving Shoma has made him who he is, made him a better person. 

Shoma undeniably inspires him. Yuzuru loves him so, so much for it.

~

Collapsing back into bed is a slice of heaven. Rushed through countless interviews that make his head spin and answers he can barely remember giving, Yuzuru finds that sleep still doesn’t come easy even if it's already the late hours of night, bordering on daybreak. 

There had been plenty of people asking him about his next plans are and Yuzuru couldn’t reply to them, had no answer for the looming question no matter how hard he tried. What comes next?

Nobody knows less about what Yuzuru should do than himself, his body permanently wrought with exhaustion. He loves skating, it shines through in every breath he takes, every move he makes. Everything he’s done, everything he’s given up and sacrificed, it’s all for skating, but these days, if Yuzuru isn’t careful enough, it’s as if he’ll break and snap like he should have many years ago. He’s forced to admit the truth to himself sometimes, curled up in bed watching the digits on the clock tick past— skating makes him tired.

He’s been a beacon, a shining example, leaving his mark on this sport for the past years but Yuzuru imagines a day where he’ll wake up one day and realise that he’s not anymore. It makes him afraid. 

He’s flicking through the articles of himself on the internet, trying to ignore the terrifying impending future when he comes across it, the headline that jumps out at him as he skims it. Shoma doesn’t have a hateful bone in his body, the only spite he’s ever been able to spit is towards himself. 

He feels hollow, empty as he reads the self-deprecating words Shoma spews about himself, reads about Shoma’s tears and wants it all to be over. 

He’s kept an eye on Shoma over the season, of course he has. He’s seen Shoma’s skates, gasped in horror at his fall in the sp during Skate Canada, cursed when Shoma fell short of first at GPF, held back tears as Shoma fell to the ice after 4CC. 

Shoma is many things, but he is not a _disappointment_.

It’s the combination of his own fears and brief anger that pulses beneath him, at everybody who leads Shoma to think he’s not enough, at himself for not being there for Shoma, at Shoma for not seeing what Yuzuru sees in him, that brings him marching out of his room. 

Three doors down, he knocks on Shoma’s door and waits impatiently as it swings open to reveal Shoma’s face, the awareness on it giving away that Shoma was avoiding the same demons that haunt Yuzuru in his sleep. 

The world blurs to white noise as Yuzuru observes the emotions flare across Shoma’s face. And if Yuzuru knows Shoma, then the same must be true, because Shoma pulls his door inwards and wordlessly lets Yuzuru step out of the corridor and into his arms. 

Yuzuru breathes him in, the sturdy sureness that accompanies Shoma. They haven’t had much chance to talk in the past week, Yuzuru arriving late and with the competition hanging over their heads. This is the closest they’ve been in months and Yuzuru wants to cherish every single moment of it. 

Shoma leads him over to the bed, letting Yuzuru hug him for as long as he needs. That’s one of the many things Yuzuru loves about Shoma, his ability to just know when he needs something and his willingness to give it. Shoma has his limits but Yuzuru is not one of them. 

“I wanted to win,” Shoma admits, when he realises that Yuzuru isn’t going to speak. “I wanted to win so badly.”

“I know,” Yuzuru whispers back, into the crook of Shoma’s neck. “Me too.”

There’s nothing as miserable as being as alone and Yuzuru has been so lonely. Between Javier retiring and his own injuries, he forgets how good it feels to just have a shoulder to cry on. 

Shoma shakes a little, breath coming out uneven and Yuzuru recognises the telltale signs of crying even before he registers the breathy sobs Shoma are letting out. In his arms, Shoma breaks. 

“I thought I could do it. Make the podium at least. I didn’t think-“ Shoma cuts himself off, choking back his tears. Yuzuru reaches to wipe them off carefully, letting his thumb linger on the arch of Shoma's cheekbones for a moment.

“You’re not weak, Shoma.” He chastises, wanting to chase away the clouds of doubts that storm on Shoma. “I watched your skates and what you did was anything but.”

Shoma twists his head towards them, eyes cloudy and Yuzuru’s heart breaks. Breaks because Shoma looks so sad, ethereal even in his misery and Yuzuru wants to protect him. Yuzuru has shield Shoma from the brunt of the media for years now, taken the attention and the spotlight so Shoma didn’t have to, but he can’t protect Shoma from himself. 

“I’ve disappointed so many people,” Shoma whispers. Shoma is strong, experience has turned the stammering, unknowing junior into the man Yuzuru knows and loves. To see him crack, shattering into pieces in front of his eyes is heartbreaking. “I’m scared.”

Oh. _Oh._

To hear his own fears echoed makes his heart hurt. Yuzuru understands more than anybody else what it feels like to disappoint, the crushing feeling of not living up to expectations. Shoma may seem indifferent, but he’s one of the most sensitive people Yuzuru has ever known.

“They love you,” Yuzuru reassures, grasping Shoma’s hand in his own and intertwining their fingers. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“And they will leave me, won’t they?” Shoma asks, voice cracking. He’s crying freely now, letting the droplets slide down his face and into his lap. One hits the back of Yuzuru’s hand where he’s rubbing circles into Shoma’s palm with his thumb.

It’s overwhelming, Yuzuru realises. To have somebody who you love become their own biggest demon. He wants Shoma to understand, wants Shoma to know that Yuzuru can love him enough for the two of them until Shoma can start believing in himself like how Yuzuru believes in him. 

“You are loved, Shoma Uno.” He hears himself say. “Your parents love you, Itsuki loves you, Mihoko loves you, your fans love you.”

Then, barely hesitating.

“I love you.”

Shoma startles at that, eyes blinking as he pulls his face away from where he’s hidden it in Yuzuru’s shoulder. Yuzuru’s barely comprehended the own connotations of what he said, but he desperately wants Shoma to stop crying, for Shoma to aim that same breathtaking smile at him again. 

He can’t bring himself to take it back though, not with the way Shoma is staring at him. He knows Shoma is turning that sentence over and over again in his head now, overthinking it like he always does. There’s no mistaking what he’s just admitted and Yuzuru wonders if Shoma knows, knew all this time but denied himself of the possibility, the chance.

“You don’t-“ Shoma starts, pausing. “You don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to force yourself for me, I’ll be fine.”

There’s this little voice in his head, a different one from the ones that drip poison into his mind, that makes him understand the implication of Shoma’s response. Shoma thinks Yuzuru is _forcing_ himself to say it, Shoma thinks Yuzuru is having a desperate attempt at trying to make him feel better. 

Shoma thinks Yuzuru liking— loving him would make him happier.

He wants to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, how stupid both of them has been. A little huff still escapes him and Shoma’s head snaps up at the noise, properly looking at Yuzuru for the first time in the night. His confusion is so endearing, Yuzuru muses to himself as he cradles Shoma’s face in his hands.

He swipes at the tear tracks left behind, touch feather light across Shoma’s jaw, his cheeks, brushing away the remnants of sadness underneath Shoma’s eyes.

“I mean it.” He confesses, watching the light in Shoma’s eye turn from fear to wonder. He wants to stay in this moment forever, Shoma trembling under his hands and a lightness in his chest.

“Yuzuru,” Shoma whispers softly. 

Yuzuru would give anything to hear Shoma say his name again like that again, like a fragile prayer, like it’s all he’s ever known. He leans closer and listens to the way Shoma’s breath hitches, feels paradise blooming in the space between them. 

“Is this okay?” He asks. They both know what he’s talking about and there's no indecision in the tiny, irrevocable nod Shoma gives him.

Maybe it’s Yuzuru who bends down first, maybe they both surged forward at the same time. Maybe it was Shoma who had tilted his head up and rose up to meet Yuzuru. Either way, it didn’t matter, because nothing had ever felt as right as kissing Shoma. 

Urgency claws at him, a furious need for Shoma to understand. Because Yuzuru has loved him for years now, loved him with the force of a thousand burning suns simmering beneath his skin. Shoma needs to understand how much Yuzuru loves him.

Shoma makes a small noise, a frenzied sound and pulls Yuzuru down until they’re horizontal, tugs Yuzuru on top of him and lets Yuzuru cover his body with his own, still connected.

Yuzuru props himself up onto his elbows, framing Shoma’s stockier body as Shoma reaches up to grasp at his waist, steady weight grounding him. Shoma tugs at Yuzuru until he’s between Shoma’s legs, his own entangled within them.

They kiss frantically, like it’ll be over the moment they break apart. It’s messy and wet and Yuzuru wouldn’t have it any other way, pulling back to barely inhale before Shoma is following him and bridging the gap once more.

The world spins on its axis and everything is going by too quickly and Yuzuru falls pliant under the steady pressure of Shoma’s ministrations, he feels lightheaded and dizzy as Shoma licks into his mouth, clutching at Yuzuru like a lifeline.

He’s indulged himself in the idea that Shoma might possibly like him back, dreamed about holding hands and kissing under the moonlight and giving himself up for Shoma to take, as much as he wants, as much as Yuzuru can give. 

He doesn’t think he’s prepared for the force of Shoma’s love though, laying there as Shoma kisses him like he means everything. Yuzuru whines, a high pitched little thing that makes Shoma fall away, lips red and glossy, pupils dilated, face flushed. He looks impossibly beautiful like this, dark eyes looking up at Yuzuru. 

_“Yuzuru.”_ Shoma whispers again, into the silence.

There’s a lazy smile curling upwards on Shoma’s face, a smug, satisfied note about him. Yuzuru knows he must look positively wrecked but Shoma gazes at him like he hung the stars and the moon, like he put the sun in the sky and more. 

Yuzuru’s throat feels dry and he doesn’t know what to say. “I love you.” He settles for again, because it’s true, because Shoma should know.

“I love you too,” Shoma confesses, hands leaving Yuzuru’s waist to cup his face gently. Yuzuru feels stunned, doesn’t know what else to do expect to lean down to kiss Shoma again sweetly. 

“What does this make us?” Yuzuru asks, because he’s spent years being in love with Shoma and Shoma has spent years being in love with him, they’ve long since past the point of shy crushes and nervous glances. 

“Whatever you want,” Shoma answers and there’s finality in his voice, promises of the days to come. Shoma says it like it’s a certainty, firm and sure and Yuzuru finds himself growingly attracted to it, the short glimpse of what Shoma can give him. 

“I want you,” Yuzuru says, looking at the flicker of emotions that rush across Shoma’s face, fondness and affection and _love_.

“You can have me.” Shoma is the sun and Yuzuru is Icarus, helplessly drawn to him. “I’m yours, I always have been.”

“Please,” Yuzuru begs, lets Shoma draw him down until their lips are pressed together again. Yuzuru wants to be here until the world ends, being held by Shoma as they kiss softly. There are stars and lightning bursting beneath his epidermis, filling him with crackling happiness.

When they break apart again, out of breath, Yuzuru watches Shoma smile and wants nothing more than to have this for as long as he can. Wants to hold Shoma close like this for the rest of his life and feel the steady beating of his heart in his chest against Yuzuru’s own.

“I won’t leave you,” Yuzuru say. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

“Okay,” Shoma sighs, barely audible and if Yuzuru wasn’t so close he wouldn’t have heard it. 

“Okay,” Yuzuru breathes back, and it sounds like a promise.

It feels like winning, louder than any crowd that’s cheered for him, more valuable than any set of scores, better than any gold medal Yuzuru has gotten.

Yuzuru grins at Shoma and watches as the slow curve of Shoma’s smile stretch across his face, giddiness and exhilaration racing through his body when Shoma pulls him downwards once more.

It tastes like victory.

**Author's Note:**

> lmao this word vomit,,,, can u tell i wrote this mostly in 2 days LMAO it's pretty rushed but whatever i'm here to offer soft yuzusho content for the people
> 
> i find the last scene pretty fucking ridiculous bc it's like half the fic but whatever ruhifsdj more content can't be that bad right
> 
> come find me on my other platforms!! pls feel free to leave comments and critiques bc i haven't written properly in a long while and i actually kinda like this fic
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/youngjaehyuns) || [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/youngjaehyuns)
> 
> hope y'all enjoyed!!


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